


We Are the Kids

by stardustedship



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Killugon - Freeform, Snow Day, gen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-13 22:50:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13580565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustedship/pseuds/stardustedship
Summary: Gon and Killua have a mission, but the mission is tomorrow and the snow is today.





	We Are the Kids

Gon Freecs could tell when a storm was coming from miles away. Gon Freecs could tame any animal, or fight them if strictly necessary. Gon Freecs knew no fear, and the great outdoors was his home.

  
Gon Freecs was colder than he had been in his entire life, and he was convinced it was going to kill him.

"Stop being such a baby!" A snowball exploded against Gon's face and he blinked the powder away, shivering in front of the small hut the two of them would call home for a few days yet.

"Killua! It's cold!" Gon's breath puffed in front of his face and he sniffed, pulling a face when the cold air sliced through his nose.

Another snowball, and Killua was crouched behind a low wall he'd hastily scraped together for defense. He poked his head over it, blue eyes bright against the monochrome landscape. "You could try more clothes?" 

Gon was in his green shorts, jacket, and lace up boots. At killua's suggestion that their trip would be cold, he had sensibly packed a scarf, which he was wearing around his waist. "B-but you're w-wearing shorts!" Gon exclaimed. He began bouncing in place, little hops to get his blood flowing.

Killua stood up from behind the makeshift fort and sighed. "That's an islander for you," he muttered, stalking forward with hands shoved in his pockets. He pushed a finger against Gon's forehead. "You," he grumped, "are no fun." Gon managed to look mortally offended. Killua grabbed the end of the useless scarf-belt and towed the half-frozen Gon inside. "Get in here before you freeze to death." 

 

Gon stood in front of the fire, blowing on his hands as Killua rustled around in the back of the cabin. He returned with a set of clothes and pulled Gon's hands out of his armpits to deposit them in his arms. "Stupid," he said. "I packed some extra clothes just in case it got really cold, but it looks like it's going to stay balmy, so you can wear them."

Gon blinked, but Killua had already turned back to the kitchen. "Balmy??"

 

A few minutes later, the kitchen smelled of apples and cinnamon and Gon's mouth was watering. He tugged a little at the blue and white fleece-lined hoodie and shifted his legs in the fleece-lined leather pants, bending his knees and watching the material smooth and wrinkle. "I'm wearing cows," he said.

All noise in the kitchen stopped, then hastily resumed. "Er," said Killua. "People...do that."

Gon blinked. "I know that," he said, wandering to the table. 

"Oh thank god," Killua exhaled. 

"Whale Island exported leather," Gon explained, finger in the air. "I just did't wear it. I could smell the cow."

Killua spun around with a plate of ginger snaps, a jug of shimmering apple cider, and a grin. Gon gasped with excitement and held up the mug on the table for Killua to fill. He took a deep sniff of his cider, and his eyes half closed in sheer delight.

"You still owe me a snowball fight," Killua said around a mouthful of ginger snap.

"Okay," Gon said lazily, then, "I don't think I could ever feel cold again."

"Don't get ahead of yourself. And give me that scarf so I can put it on you correctly."

 

When the remaining cider had been set on the stove to warm and all articles of clothing were properly equipped, the boys leaped out into the snow, vaulting over each other like frogs and tumbling around happily. Killua took a running start at and vaulted himself high above, only to plunge giggling into a giant snowdrift with a soft _whupf_. Delighted, Gon followed suit with a snowdrift of his own.

Killua heard the thump of Gon's padded body against the buried stump from three meters away.

 

Sometime later, the two of them lay side by side in the track-beaten snow, staring up at the darkening sky and breathless with laughter. "I think there's still snow in my underwear," Gon said.

"That's because you're supposed to hold down your jacket when you slide on your stomach," Killua replied sagely.

Gon scooped a handful of snow and dumped it on Killua's nose. "You could've told me that." 

Killua shook off the snow and took a deep breath. All was quiet for a few contemplative moments in which the two of them just breathed. "I like the smell of snow," he said.

"I just like knowing what was wrong with the air all day yesterday," Gon replied. "Everything smelled so...cold."

"I can't believe you've never seen snow before," Killua commented, crossing one leg over the other. "It just never occurred to me that anyone hadn't."

"And you've never been in a hurricane."

"People _want_ to be in snow though," Killua said. He looked over to find Gon staring at him blankly. "You don't seriously enjoy hurricanes, do you?"

Gon turned his face back to the sky. "It isn't good when they break houses or kill things," he said, "but the wind and the rain and the trees all swaying around...that's fun. I used to bring lost animals home to Mito-san and we'd keep them safe and dry inside until the storm was over." He smiled at little at the memory.

Though he didn't look over to see, Killua was still staring at him with a kind of softness. Abruptly he pulled the front of Gon's hoodie open and shoved a fistful of snow into it, laughing as Gon leaped up and ran around, flapping his arms and shrieking.

 

The fire and cider were waiting for them when Gon and Killua tumbled inside at last, soaked to the skin and flushed pink with cold. They threw their wet clothes down in front of the fire, making sure to keep the leather pants away, and sighed happily as they shrugged into warm, dry pants and shirts. They snacked and played chess well into the night, discussing the mission ahead and clacking the pieces together in mock battle. Finally, the two of them fell asleep in front of the dwindling fire, warm and full and content. Whatever the mission tomorrow, they would spend tonight as the sleepy, safe children they were.


End file.
